


The World as We Know It

by Studpuffin



Series: Reddie AUs [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Deaths, F/M, I apologize in advance, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Someone dies, Zombies, but it will get GROSS, for more than one pairing, maybe more than one person, maybe sex later?, probably, the first death is important or PLOT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:20:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Studpuffin/pseuds/Studpuffin
Summary: A zombie virus has come to Derry and has turned the world upside-down for the Losers Club. As things get worse around them, the seven teens must navigate death, budding relationships, and survival.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hinted at this fic M O N T H S ago and chapter one is finally finished and I'm SO excited. This fic is going to start off a little slow but it picks up a lot more later so bare with me.

It was swelteringly hot. 

Eddie lay sprawled in the back row of Mike’s van, wishing he were dead. 

But since he wasn’t dead he was focusing on the drop of sweat making its way down his spine, the throbbing in his head, and the growling of his stomach. 

The world was falling to shit and he was stuck in the back seat of a car driving  _ somewhere  _ with no plan, barely any food, a crowbar, and the clothes he had managed to cram into his backpack before Bill had hauled him out of the house and practically thrown him the back seat. He rolled onto his side on the back bench, taking in the exhausted looks on his friends faces. 

It was impossible for him not to think about the face that wasn’t with them. 

It was too quiet. 

Eddied sighed softly and pulled his phone out of his pocket, only to see it was still blank.

_ Where the fuck is Richie… _ is Eddie’s only coherent thought, followed quickly by,  _ Ma is gonna have a panic attack...if she’s even still alive. _

“S-someone needs to go and l-look for him.” Bill’s voice reached Eddie through the hazy heat that was clouding his brain as they pulled up in front of the familiar green house. 

“I’ll do it,” Mike volunteered.

“No,” Eddie cut him off quickly, “keep the car running,” he rolled off the seat, “Stan and I will go.” Stan nodded, following Eddie out of the car. 

“What...what if he’s one of them,” Stan whispered. 

Eddie shouldered his tire iron, “Then we do what we have to…” he closed his eyes, taking a shuttered breath, “But hopefully it isn’t going to come to that.” 

Stan nodded, following Eddie into the house. 

The front hall was a mess. As they picked their way through, Stan turned to Eddie, eyes wide with fear. A sudden sound from the living room caught their attention. Two bodies lay in the living room, bleeding and groaning, organs spilling out onto the carpet. Eddie poked his head around the corner and grimaced, bile rising in his throat.

“Wentworth and Maggie…” he managed to gag before vomiting on the front carpet.

“No Lydia?” Stan bit his lip, eyebrows drawing together with worry as Eddie continued to gag.

Eddie shook his head, “No Lydia…” he panted, “She left for camp.” he croaked, throat hoarse from the acidic burn in his throat.   

“Good for her. Maybe she’d get out of this shit show alive,” Stan mumbled under his breath. 

A noise from upstairs caught his attention. Eddie turned to Stan gesturing for him to follow him.

_ This asshole better be alive because I don’t think I have it in me to kill him  _ He thought to himself as he climbed the stairs. Stan followed close behind him, reaching Richie’s half closed bedroom. 

“On three?” he whispered, looking over at Stan, who nodded.

“One...two...three.” They kicked the door open and were met with a scream and a boot being thrown at their heads.

“Jesus FUCK.” Richie slumped back against his dresser and ran a hand over his face, “You scared the fuck out of me.”

Eddie grinned, dropping the tire iron and throwing himself into Richie’s arms, “Scared you? Asshole I thought you were fucking dead! I left you twenty messages...” he whispered hiding his face in Richie’s neck. He took a deep, settling breath, letting the calming smell if his best friend ( _ boyfriend? _ ) calm his nerves. He pulled back, taking Richie’s hand, “We gotta go.” he pulled Richie to his feet, shoving his backpack and St. Louis Slugger baseball bat into his hands, “Pack. Clothes, first aid, food. Anything.” he let his fingers linger against Richie’s for a moment before heading into the hallway. 

Moments later, Richie emerged, backpack over his shoulder and baseball bat in hand. Slowly, the three boys crept down the stairs. As the reached the first floor, another low groan emitted from the living room. 

“My mom and dad…” Richie whispered, turning to move into the room next to him.  

Eddie shook his head, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him away from the door, “It’s better not to look. They aren’t...I couldn’t kill them. Not like this. They’re gonna die anyway…” he kept a tight grip on Richie’s arms, continuing to try to pull him back from the gruesome scene in the Tozier living room, “Richie please we need to go.”

An inhuman noise ripped it’s way suddenly out of Richie, “Fuck Eddie no! This isn’t fucking fair!” he tried to pull himself away from Eddie, only to have his other arm grabbed by Stan. Tears were falling down his freckled face as he threw his full weight away from the shorter boys. 

“Richie no!” Eddie dragged him back, pushing him up against the wall, “You can’t see them like this you know they wouldn’t want you to see them like this. It’s a miracle that  _ you’re  _ alive. Don’t push your luck. They’re gonna change any minute now and unless you wanna be the one to kill them, we can’t be here when they do.” His voice was thick with tears.

He and Stan wrestled a still screaming, struggling Richie down the front stairs and into the car. Eddie and Richie crawled into to he back, barely getting settled as Mike hit the gas. 

Eddie stared out the window, wordlessly stroking Richie’s hair. The tall, skinny boy has his head in Eddie’s lap, tears still rolling down his face. Eddie wished he could say something comforting. Something that would make whatever Richie was feeling ease. 

But what do you say to someone whose parents were just ripped apart by a horde of zombies? 

Eddie reached down and laced his fingers with Richie’s. This...thing...whatever it was between them, had started a few months ago. Simple things. Longer glances. Hand holding. Cuddling closer together during sleepovers or on the nights that Richie snuck into his room. 

Can you call someone your boyfriend if you haven’t kissed them yet? 

Can you call someone your boyfriend if you haven’t told them you liked them yet? 

And how do you tell someone you love them when the entire world is falling apart? 

All questions that were going to have to wait until they figured out what the fuck was going on. Richie had stopped crying but was laying spread over the seat, uncharacteristically silent. Ben and Bev were in the row in front of them, whispering quietly amongst themselves as they sorted out food and supplies. Mike was driving with Bill and Stan curled in each other’s arms in the passenger seat. 

The tension was palpable like any movement could set of something catastrophic. 

Then someone coughed.

Almost like the universe had been waiting for a sign to dump shit on them. 

A body slammed into the side of the car, a bloody handprint smearing across the window. 

“What the FUCK was the that?” Richie shrieked, as another body slammed into the side off the van. He scrambled backward, pressing closer to Eddie, who instinctively grabbed his hand. 

“The dead…” Eddie squeezed his hand, grabbing the baseball bat from the floor between them and passing it to Richie, “Undead I guess.” he mumbled, pressing closer into the lanky teen’s side and lacing their fingers together. He leaned over to peer out the window and gasped, recoiling in horror. 

“No…” he whispered, “Fuck mom no!!” he pressed himself back up against the window, not even noticing as Richie moved next to him. Sonia Kaspbrak was lumbering up the block towards the van, her large, fat-dimpled arms and neck covered in blood. A large chunk of her face was missing from a bite mark and blood was oozing down her chest and over her hands. 

“Mike stop! Stop the car!” Eddie screeched, “Stop the fucking car!”, tears were rolling down his face, “Fucking stop!” he sobbed.  

“Eddie we can’t.” Mike sounded pained, “I can’t let you go out there.” 

“But-” 

“No! There are too many of them out there for us to fight even if we could save her.” 

The car slowed as Mike attempted to weave his way throw a new hoard of zombies that were surrounding the car and Eddie seized his chance. Jumping over the middle row, he lunged for the door of the van, knocking it open with his shoulder and tumbling out onto the street. 

“Shit!” Mike slammed on the brakes, “Eddie get back in the car!” He ripped off his seatbelt as he put the car in park. 

Richie was already moving. He grabbed his baseball bat and scrambled out the door, “Eddie! Eddie fucking slow down!” his long legs made it easy to catch up with the smaller brunette, “Eddie come on wait!” he grabbed his arm and pulled him around the corner into in an alleyway, away from the groaning monsters on the main street. 

“Eds…” he held him by the shoulders, “You can’t go after her.” 

Eddie looked up at him, tears streaming down his face, “I know she’s awful, but she’s my-” 

“Your mom I know,” he soothed gently, “But Ed’s you can’t save her.” 

“But I-” 

“No Eddie. We need to go,” Richie gripped his shoulder, attempting to calm himself and the still crying Eddie, “I know she’s your mom and you feel loyalty to her, but this is your life on the line. Not just yours. Our lives on the line,” Richie looked pained as he attempted to reason with Eddie, “Don’t make that face. I know how you’re feeling,” he pleaded as Eddie narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “Don’t forget, I lost my parents too. 

“At least let me see how far along she is…” Eddie pleaded again.

Richie stood silently, considering him for a moment. Then he sighed “Fine. But I’m coming with you.” he shouldered his baseball bat and took Eddie’s hand. 

Eddie squeezed “Thank you.” he whispered as they stepped back out onto the street. Sonia stood there, swaying in place. Blood was still pouring from the bite on her cheek, muscle and bone exposed. She turned at the sound of them moving, jaw swinging loosely as the muscles threatened to snap. 

“Edward…” she whispered, voice coming out croaky and weak. 

Eddie took two hesitant steps toward her, “Mom…” he whispered, “Mommy…” he covered his mouth, as tears welled in his eyes again, “How long...how long have you been…” 

She shook her head “I was coming back from the store. About a day now.” 

“But you haven’t gotten sick yet…” he whimpered, reaching out for her, only to have Richie yank him back. 

“Don’t.” he hissed, “Don’t touch her.” he pinned Eddie’s arm’s to his side. 

“I know…” Eddie whispered, voice suddenly weak, “I just…” he shook slightly, leaning into Richie’s touch. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath, “I know.” 

Suddenly, Sonia shrieked. An unearthly, horrible, soul-shaking sound that chilled Eddie to his center. Her eyes rolled back and she lunged forward, unsteady as the virus took over her brain. 

It all happened so fast. 

Eddie felt himself freeze in place, all the air leaving his body. He watched, rooted to the concrete as she reached out for him, her skin already starting to rot as the infection raced through her body. Her fingers twitched, reaching for his throat.

Suddenly, there were several shouts, Bill grabbing Eddie by the shoulders and pulling him out of the way of Sonia and turning him away, and a sickeningly wet crunch. 

Everything seemed to freeze as Eddie turned to see the source of the sound. 

Images flashed in front of Eddie’s eyes; Richie holding a now bloodied baseball bat, a puddle of blood slowly spreading over Rose Avenue, the cracked glasses laying in the gutter... 

And his mother, Sonia Kaspbrak, dead in the street. 


	2. No Time Like the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonia is dead   
> Eddie and Richie have a moment...several moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is kicking my ass y'all

Time was frozen.

Eddie swayed on the spot. His brain sounded like the television when the antenna broke. A loud, hissing, magnetic sound that blocked out everything else happening around him. He blinked hard, hoping that it would all go away when he opened them. 

_ One...two...three _

Eddie opened his eyes and suddenly everything was loud. People are shouting. Ben was chucking rocks at zombies, Stan and Mike flanking him, standing on top of the car. Bill and Bev were both still holding Eddie’s arms. 

Richie was staring at Eddie, blood still splattered on his face. 

And his mother was still dead on the street.

Someone was screaming. As Eddie’s brain caught up with his surroundings he realized it was him. He shook himself free of Ben and Bev and launched himself at Richie, knocking him to the ground. 

Richie gasped as the air left his body, “Eddie what the f-”

“You killed her!” Eddie shrieked, beating his fists on Richie’s chest, “You fucking killed her!” his voice went shrill and hysterical as he gripped the front of Richie’s t-shirt, “I left your mom and dad fucking alive and you killed my fucking mom without a second thought!” 

Richie grabbed Eddie’s wrists and rolled them over so he was pinning him to the floor, “She was gonna kill you Eds! Rip your guts out of your chest! Eat you for breakfast!” he rolled again, pulling Eddie against his chest, “She was gonna kill you and I can’t let you fucking die!” 

Frustrated tears rolled down Eddie’s face. He wanted to be mad at Richie. Hell, he wanted to be furious. But Richie was right. Sonia would have killed Eddie had she gotten the chance and Richie had saved his life. He sniffled, half-heartedly hitting Richie in the chest again, “You saved me...You didn’t need to save me. It’s like you always need to be the hero or something” he gave him another weak shove, “You don’t always need to save me. I could have...I could have done it,” he whispered, letting his hands fall into his lap as a fresh wave of tears overcame him. 

Richie pushed Eddie’s sweat-damped hair off his forehead, “I don’t doubt you could baby…” he whispered, “I...I panicked. She was coming at you and all I could think about was losing you forever...and I just...I couldn’t let that happen.” Richie pressed his lips gently to Eddie’s forehead, smiling as Eddie started to calm in his arms, “You are so fucking strong Eds. Besides, you save my skinny, stupid ass all the time. Remember that time Bowers broke my glasses and you punched him in the stomach so hard he puked?” 

Eddie gave him a watery smile, “And then you started laughing and snorted blood from your nose bleed all over the floor.” 

Richie grinned, standing and taking Eddie with him, “Yeah. Or the time that you took care of me for a whole week when I had the flu,” he laced his fingers with Eddie’s and started walking them back toward the van, “I couldn’t survive without you Eddie Spaghetti,” he squeezed his hand as they carefully picked their way through the streets, avoiding the viscera and dirt covering the streets.

As they reached the van, Mike looked up at them. There was a scratch on his cheek and he looked tired, but he managed a small smile, “We figured out somewhere we can go for shelter.” 

“Great,” Richie threw an arm protectively over Eddie’s shoulder, “Where is it?” 

Mike shifted on the floor of the van, making space for Richie to sit next to him, “Out on the edge of the farm, there’s this empty holding shed I completely forgot about. No one’s been out there to use it in years,” he tapped his pen against the hand-drawn map he was working on, “It isn’t huge, but it should fit us and all of our stuff.” 

Richie nodded as Eddie leaned over his shoulder, “You should add landmarks,” Eddie pointed to the map, “That way we can all find it and makes copies in case we get separated.” 

Mike grinned, “Eddie that’s genius,” he sketched a couple of markers onto the paper. There were several moments of tense silence, until Mike looked up, “Alright. Let’s go.” 

 

Eddie sat quietly as they drove to the Hanlon’s farm. Saving Richie, watching his mother die, and having a hardcore emotional breakdown had left him feeling drained. His fingers were tangled with Richie’s, holding as tightly as he could. Richie ran his fingers gently through his hair. 

“You ok?” 

Eddie snorted, “Am I ok? Fuck you.” he mumbled, “No Richie I’m not ok. I’m so fucking far from ok right now,” he curled under Richie’s arm and buried his face in his neck, “I’m so fucking tired and scared and I feel like I can’t breathe and that the entire universe is falling to pieces and I just...I...fuck….” he broke off with a small sob and hugged him tighter. Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s hair and sighed softly. He smiled a little and pulled Eddie closer. 

Eds. His Eddie. His best friend. The one he could always count on to get into trouble with him, and the only person he’d ever been in love with. He wanted to ask Eddie out so badly and had had a plan all set and everything.

And then the world had gone to complete and utter shit and all they were left with were these small moments. He clutched Eddie’s hand tighter, pulling him closer to his chest as they looped down the dirt road to the Hanlon’s farm. Eddie’s quiet sniffles tore at Richie’s heart. 

He didn’t  _ mean _ to kill Sonia. He just didn’t want Eddie to get hurt. 

And she was as good as dead anyway. 

 

Late that night, Richie sat in the loft of the abandoned farm, looking out at the expanse of woods before them and started to accept the facts. He was going to die, and probably soon at this rate. He was going to die and he had never gotten a chance to tell Eddie how he felt. Why bother now? Why let themselves get attached to each other, to having someone for comfort and safety, only to have one of them die or get infected. 

He couldn’t have Eddie just to lose him. So better not to have him at all. 

A creek of the stairs made him turn his head. He smiled a little at the sight of Eddie, usually clean clothes rumbled and dirty and hair ruffled from the chaos of the day. 

“Hey, Eds.” 

“Hi Richie,” His voice sounded strange. Too quiet and soft, like he was trying not to cry again. 

Richie’s brows furrowed in concern, “Hey c’mere,” he held open his arms and Eddie gratefully crawled into them, “Talk to me.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s stupid.”

“No time like the present.”

And he’s right. Eddie knows he’s right but he still can’t bring himself to force the words out. 

_ I am so so in love with you you idiot. And now we’re about to die and I’m never going to tell you _

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he silently slips his hand into Richie’s as angry, frustrated tears burn in the corners of his eyes. 

“Look at me Eds.” Richie took his chin gently, “Look at me.” 

Eddie let his eyes flick up to Richie’s, heart leaping into his chest.

“I wanna kiss you while I still have a chance,” Richie whispered.

Eddie gasped softly, “Richie…” he murmured, “I…Do it.” 

Richie gave him a familiar smile, one that made Eddie’s heart instantly feel warm. For a fleeting moment, they were able to forget where they’re sitting and what’s happening outside the wooden walls of the barn. Richie leaned in, hand coming to cup Eddie’s face. Eddie gulped, looking up into Richie’s deep brown eyes. 

And then Richie kissed him. He kissed him and the stress and anxiety melted away leaving Eddie trembling as tears spilled down his face again. He gripped the front of Richie’s t-shirt and pulled him closer, heart skipping again as Richie’s arms circled his waist. His eyes fluttered shut as the familiar scent of Richie mixed with the new sensation of kissing him.

It was electric.

Slowly they broke apart, warm breath ghosting over each other’s cheeks. 

“Richie I-”

“Eds this wasn’t-”

“I didn’t picture-”

“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen,” they both managed to spit out at the same time. Richie grinned, as Eddie blushed, hiding his face in Richie’s neck. Both boys giggled softly, and for a moment they were able to feel almost normal. They could have been sitting up in the main barn of the Hanlon’s farm after everyone went to sleep, or curled up on Eddie’s window sill together. 

Everything was perfect.

Until a body came crashing against the door. 


	3. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie looks ready to kill.
> 
> The thought of Richie killing anyone makes Eddie shudder.
> 
> 'He killed your mom'
> 
> 'Shut up that was different'
> 
> Was it? Mike did say tragedy makes people do some sick things
> 
> **PLEASE SEE NOTES FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: 
> 
> \- Racist language  
> \- Homophobic language  
> \- Violence  
> -Death scenes

“What the fuck was that?” Richie whipped away from Eddie and peered over the edge of the loft.

“Nothing good…” Eddie whispered, huddling closer to Richie. From outside, they heard shouting, someone pounding on the wall, throwing themselves against the outside of the shed, “Other survivors?”

“Or someone coming to kill us and take all our stuff…” Richie bit his lip as he slowly climbed down the stairs, gesturing for Eddie to follow.

“But..why would they want to kill us?” Eddie frowned, “Isn’t it smarter to stick together? Strength in numbers?”

“Or just more people to slow you down,” Mike whispered darkly from the corner, “Tragedy makes people do some crazy sick things.” he wrapped an arm tighter around Stan, who was curled between him and Bill.

Bill nodded, stroking his thumb over Stan’s arm gently, “S-should we go and see w-who’s-”

“No,” Bev cut him off quickly, “We’re not doing anything until we know it’s safe. I’m not risking losing any of you.”

The voices got louder. And suddenly a familiar one broke through to the seven teens huddled in the dark.

“Vic come on! Put your fucking back into it.”

“Bowers,” Eddie gasped, squeaking softly as Richie covered his mouth. His eyes darted upwards and what he saw chilled him deeply. Richie’s eyes were dark, his mouth set, jaw clenched. Eddie has rarely seen Richie mad, never really mad at him, but this is a million times more intense than the few times he has.

Richie looks ready to kill.

The thought of Richie killing anyone makes Eddie shudder.

_He killed your mom_

**_Shut up that was different_ **

_Was it? Mike did say tragedy makes people do some sick things_

Eddie whimpered softly behind Richie’s hand as the wood made an ominous cracking noise. Richie slowly let go of Eddie and leaned over to grab his bat.

“Mike,” he hissed softly.

“What?”

“Do you have the keys?”

“Of course I have the fucking keys, Richie.”

Richie nodded again, “Give them to Bev.”

“What?!”

“Give them to Bev.” he whispered urgently, as someone shouted triumphantly outside, “Mike now give them to Bev. Trust me.” he pleaded. Mike looks at him warily and then hands the keys to Bev, who grips them like a lifeline.

“Go start the car,” Richie doesn’t bother to whisper anymore. A hole is already starting to form in the wall and Bowers and his gang will be on them in second, “Bev go!” He shouted, fixing her with a look that leaves no room for argument.

Bill may be their unofficial leader, but Richie is their hero.

She grabbed Ben’s hand and they take off for the back door. She pauses, looking back over her shoulder at them.

“I love you guys,” she whispered.

Richie gave her a small smile, “Love you too Red,” he gave her a wink and for a moment it could have been like any other sleepover. For a moment everything seemed to freeze and they were able to pretend they were still living their old safe lives.

The door crashed open and suddenly everything is happening at once. Mike pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and moves to stand next to Richie, who's already shouldered his bat.

“Well well...Look what we got here boys. Bucky Beaver, Nigger, Stutters, Kyke, and the Fairy Boy,” Henry smirked cruelly at them, “Where’s the Slut and Fatass? Or did the walkers already get ‘em?”

“S-shut the f-f-fuck up Bowers,” Bill was standing next to Richie on the other side, shotgun in his hand.  

“W-what are you gonna do about it Stutters?”

Eddie isn’t sure who moved first.

Suddenly Bill and Henry are wrestling on the ground, Bill screaming at the top of his lungs. Henry is practically cackling at him. Bill landed a couple of good punches. Henry spat blood into his face and looked over at Patrick.

That look sends the rest of them running. Richie and Patrick charged at each other, Patrick swinging a chain, and Richie raising his baseball bat over his head. Eddie looked away, flinching at the crunch of metal on wood. Mike has Belch flat on the floor, the gun spinning across the floor into the corner of the room. Stan is nowhere to be seen.

 _Hopefully, in the car_ , Eddie prays as the gun slides past him. He sees his opportunity to end this and lunges for it. His fingertips graze the cool metal before someone is grabbing him by the back of the shirt and pulling him up. An arm wraps around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides, and suddenly he feels the cold tip of a knife pressed against his throat.

“Alright! That’s enough!” Henry barked. Eddie willed himself not to tremble as he looks at the horrible scene before him. Bill was still conscious but barely. His nose was gushing blood, his left eye was swollen almost shut, and his breath was coming in short, painful sounding gasps. Eddie can’t help but notice him clutching his side.

 _Punctured lungs, bruised organs, broken nose. It only takes seven pounds of pressure to send someone’s nasal bridge bone into their brain_ Eddie’s brain helpfully supplied as his heart rate jumped exponentially.

Mike was at his side in an instant, pulling his head into his lap and soothingly running his hands through his hair.

“Let him go, Bowers,” Richie croaked. Eddie’s heart jumped again upon seeing the state of his boyfriend. Richie had a cut on his chest, blood seeping through his white t-shirt. There was a massive bruise on his cheek and his nose was bleeding. But he’s standing. He’s talking.

He’s also holding a gun.  

_Richie is able to kill. You know he is_

**_Shut UP_ **

Henry tightened his hold on Eddie, who bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out as the blade cuts into his skin, “Or what faggot? You gonna shoot me? Miss and you kill your little faggy boyfriend. Because if you miss, you either shoot him or I slit his fucking throat.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want just let him go,” Richie sounded tired, but he’s still standing tall as ever. A full inch taller than Henry.

“Whatever I want huh?” Henry sounded practically evil and it makes Eddie’s skin crawl.

Richie nods and Eddie wants to sob.

“Supplies. All of them,” Henry paused, “And Red…” he had this awful predatory tone in his voice that made Eddie want to puke, “Don’t know when we’ll get another chance to get another girl out here if you catch my drift.”

Eddie watched in horror as Richie put down the bat, “Richie no! No!” he struggled and Henry pressed the knife harder into his neck. This time Eddie failed in holding back the gasp of pain.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Richie don’t!” Eddie pleaded again as Richie turned toward the back door where the van is parked.

Richie gave him a long look. A look that says _trust me._

And Eddie does. God help him Eddie does. Even when Henry drops Eddie to the floor, leaving him a crumpled heap. Even when Richie’s voice floats over his head saying, “this way.”

Eddie lay there silently. Richie is his best friend. Richie is the love of his life. He knows Richie wouldn’t do something like this. Not to Bev. Not after everything she’s been through. Richie wouldn’t do something like this without a plan. So he lay there silently, trusting Richie, face buried in the dirt, breathing in the smell of hay and wet ground.

Bill was still wheezing and Eddie can tell it’s getting worse. He hears Mike’s hushed whispers and the rustle of the ground as Bill reaches up to grasp at Mike’s hands, and the dull cry of pain as the movement pulls on his ribs.

Eddie wanted to cry again. But no tears come. He must be all cried out. At that moment he truly hated himself. He felt so fucking useless. But he was too fucking tired to even think about moving, let alone be of any help.

So he listens.

At first, he heard nothing. Not even a whisper from Bill and Mike. Then he heard voices. Muffled yelling. A high pitched voice screaming (he prays it isn’t Bev), the sounds of a fight and finally a loud bang.

The bang seems to reverberate through Eddie’s bones. His ears ring. He felt dizzy. He felt sick to his stomach.

 _Oh, wait that’s the blood loss. Fuck_ He thought tiredly, touching the warm wet spot on his neck. He curled in on himself and wills himself not to fall asleep.

Someone shook him and pulled him to sit up. A familiar scent wrapped around him and he clung to the body holding him.

_Richie…_

“Eddie,” Richie took his face and stroked his thumb over his cheek, “Hey Eddie baby look at me,” his voice sounded weak and croaky, “Open your eyes Eds. Baby please…”

Eddie blinked and looked up into Richie’s face, and let out an audible sigh of relief. There was the Richie he recognized, brown eyes wide in concern. Eddie let out a sob and threw his arms around Richie’s neck.

“You scared the shit out of me you asshole. Don’t do shit like that ever again.” he sniffled as Richie pressed a kiss to his into his hair.

Richie opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, Bill makes a horrible choking noise. Eddie sits up, suddenly alert. He scrambles out of Richie’s lap, collapsing at Bill’s side.

“Get Stan. Get Stan!” He looked at Richie, panic filling his voice, “Richie now!”

As Richie ran towards the car again, Eddie flew into doctor mode.

“Mike sit him up,” he urged gently, pressing a cloth to Bill’s nose in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Bill was pale. His breathing was shallow. Eddie’s chest tightens. Bill has been his best friend since birth. Even since before he had Richie, he had Bill.

He pressed his hand gently to Bill’s side, wincing at Bill’s shallow gasp, “Do you feel that?

Bill gave a weak nod, “E-Eddie…”

Eddie nodded, squeezing his hand, “Hey buddy.”

Bill gave his hand a weak squeeze, “Eddie...you…”

Eddie stroked his cheek softly, “Bill you don’t need to say anything. Just rest ok?”

Suddenly Stan was at his side, “Bill...baby,” He looked between Mike and Bill and then back at Eddie, “Eddie do something!”

“I’m trying!” he shot back, carefully wrapping the torn hay bag around Bill’s ribs, “Mike check his pulse.”

Mike pressed his fingers gently to Bill’s throat, “Fading fast,” he whispered.

“Eddie!”

“Stan I’m not a fucking surgeon!” Eddie and Stan finally make eye contact, and Stan looks ready to cry.

“So he’s gonna die…” It wasn’t a question. Stan curled closer to Bill and Mike, “I should have been here. I should have done...something…” his voice cracked, and he buried his face in Mike’s neck, “Can you give us a minute please?”

Eddie gave him a sad smile and pulls away from Bill, quietly taking Richie’s hand, and leading him towards the door. He refuses to look back. He can’t. He won’t.  Not even when he hears Stan break. The noise that Stan makes sounds inhuman. It's heartwrenching. Eddie clings tighter to Richie’s hand and wills himself not to cry again.

They crawled into the van, curling together once again in the back seat. A little over 10 minutes later, Mike and Stan exited the barn. Mike was crying. Not loudly or openly, just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Stan wasn’t crying, but his eyes are red like he just has been.

“We should bury him…” Eddie whispered.

“We can’t,” Bev shook her head, “Can’t risk him coming back. And we can’t risk anyone knowing we were here and try to follow us,” her eyes were misty and she was trembling slightly, “We need to cover our tracks.”

Mike nodded, “We need to burn it.”

No one stepped forward. And then Eddie’s voice filtered through the group.

“I’ll do it,” he held out a hand and Richie slipped his lighter into it. Eddie stooped to pick up a stick, deftly lighting it. He tossed the branch into the open doorway watching at the wood caught fire.

He closed his eyes for a moment taking a moment to center himself. He felt the heat of the fire, heard the quiet breathing of his friends. He takes a moment to say goodbye to Bill, the closest thing he had to a brother. He opened his eyes and turned back to the group. There were tears in everyone’s eyes, Stan hiding his faces in Mike’s neck again. He looked down at the blood on his hands. Bill’s blood on his hands.

Eddie swayed dangerously, reaching out for Richie who instantly pulls him into his arms. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezes his hand again, crawls into the van.

There’s no point dwelling on the past when there’s nothing you can do to change it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write and it only gets worse from here y'all


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Eddie come on please talk to me…” Richie whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I...Eds please?”
> 
> Eddie looked up, eyes raking over Richie’s face. He looked so scared and lonesome and it made Eddie’s heart ache. He missed Richie, even though they had been with each other constantly for the last 72 hours. He missed having time alone with Richie. Slowly, he moved as if to touch Richie’s cheek, but froze, seeing his hand still covered in dried blood hovering next to Richie’s pale cheek. He dropped his hand and gave Richie a small, but genuine smile.
> 
> “Let me shower ok? Gotta wash this off,” He gestured to his hands, “But we’ll talk ok?” he stood on his tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth, “We’ll talk.”
> 
> The look of relief and bliss that Richie gave him lifted some of the weight from Eddie’s chest. Not all of it. Not by a long shot. 
> 
> But it’s enough. Enough for him to get in the shower. Enough for him to scrub the blood off his hands. Enough for him to start to breathe a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No big warnings for this chapter. Generally sad stuff. Lots of crying. Bev's snarky sense of humor. 
> 
> Thanks to Leigh for proofreading for me!!

Eddie stared at his hands, looking at the blood flaking off. He curled his fingers, watching it crack against his skin. 

“Eddie…”

Bev’s voice sounded far away like he was hearing her under water. 

“Eddie sweetheart? Hey look at me,” Bev touched his cheek, guiding him to look up at her, “You need to wash it off, Eddie. You don’t know if he could be…” she broke off, biting her lip and looking away. 

The word infected hangs in the air between them, but all of them are too scared to say it out loud. None of them wanted to think about it what would happen if one of them were to be infected. None of them even knew how it spread. 

Eddie nodded, “I know I need to. I just…” he looked up at Bev, “This is all I have left of him.” 

Bev gave him a small smile and shook her head, “No...no. He’s in here,” she lay her hand on his chest, “You know he is.” 

Eddie nodded. It had been almost two days since Bill’s death, and Eddie had barely spoken to anyone since lighting the shed on fire. Bev had found them a secluded spot in what use to be an old campsite just outside of Bangor and had been ecstatic to discover that the showers still worked. Which is how they ended up in the situation they were in now. Eddie laying on a bench with Bev crouched next to him, trying to gently coax him into the shower. 

“Come on Eddie. Please? Gotta stay clean to keep out the infections right?” She played with his hair gently. 

He nodded again, sitting up and dragging himself off the bench. He shuffled into the bathroom, bumping into Richie, jumping slightly and looking up. Richie looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked paler than usual. His nails were bitten down to nubs. 

“Eds…” 

Eddie looked down again, focusing intensely on his shoes. 

“Eddie come on please talk to me…” Richie whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I...Eds please?” 

Eddie looked up, eyes raking over Richie’s face. He looked so scared and lonesome and it made Eddie’s heart ache. He missed Richie, even though they had been with each other constantly for the last 72 hours. He missed having time alone with Richie. Slowly, he moved as if to touch Richie’s cheek, but froze, seeing his hand still covered in dried blood hovering next to Richie’s pale cheek. He dropped his hand and gave Richie a small, but genuine smile. 

“Let me shower ok? Gotta wash this off,” He gestured to his hands, “But we’ll talk ok?” he stood on his tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth, “We’ll talk.” 

The look of relief and bliss that Richie gave him lifted some of the weight from Eddie’s chest. Not all of it. Not by a long shot.  

But it’s enough. Enough for him to get in the shower. Enough for him to scrub the blood off his hands. Enough for him to start to breathe a little easier. 

 

Eddie dug around in his backpack, pulling out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He slipped into his clothes and pulled on his sneakers before slowly heading out into the dimming evening sun. Richie was sitting there waiting for him, staring out into the woods. He was smoking a cigarette and looked so fucking beautiful that it made Eddie’s heartache. 

“Thought you quit those things,” he whispered, sitting down next to him on the bench. 

Richie just shrugged, “Figured what’s the point anymore. It’s not like living a long life is really in my future now.”

“Don’t say that,” Eddie snapped, “Don’t you fucking dare,” he took Richie’s free hand between both of his own and rest his head on his shoulder, “I don’t know what I’d do if you died,” He whispered, “I... l-” he broke off, took a steadying breath and started again, “I love you Rich.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

“What?” 

“You shouldn’t love me Eds,” his voice still sounded wrecked and raw, “I’m a fucking murderer remember? You should be fucking disgusted by me.” 

“You’re not a murder.” 

“I killed two people in the last 72 hours. What the fuck else would I be?” he snapped, flicking some of the ash of his cigarette, dark eyes following it’s path to the dirt, “I’m scared Eds,” he looked over at him, “I’m scared that whatever makes these monsters...I’m scared that I’m already one. Doesn’t it scare you? That I’m willing to kill for you?” his voice shook a little.

And that was the thing. It should have scared Eddie shitless to see Richie like that. It should have made him sick to his stomach. He should be angry and scared and terrified. 

“No. It doesn’t scare me.”

“Why?” 

“Because I’m willing to die for you,” Eddie met his gaze and felt his skin tingle, “I love you, Richie. So fuck what’s smart or right anymore.” 

Richie flicked his cigarette out, and pulled Eddie into his lap, “I love you too Eddie. In case you needed further confirmation of that.” 

Even though he really didn’t, it was nice to hear anyway. Eddie curled his fingers loosely into Richie’s curls and pulled him close, kissing him softly, smiling a little as Richie kissed back. Eddie let himself enjoy the moment, memorizing the slide of Richie’s tongue against his own, the feeling of long, callused fingers lacing with his smaller ones. Even though they were fairly out in the open, he felt safe. Their campsite was far off the path. They had food. Running water. They could stay here, at least for a couple days to catch their breath. 

And he was kissing Richie. 

And then a stab of guilt wormed its way into his chest. It didn’t feel fair. He still had Richie. Both of them had escaped the last few days relatively unscathed while Mike was pretty beat up, Bill was dead and Stan, Bev, and Ben were all dealing the trauma of watching one of their best friends shoot a guy in the stomach.

Eddie pulled back from Richie with a jerk, “It isn’t fair.” 

“What isn’t fair Eds?” Richie murmured, leaning in to capture his lips again. 

“We can’t be together Rich,” he whispered, “It’s not fair to Stan…” 

“Stan has Mike.” 

“But Bill was-” 

“No they ALL were,” Richie gave him a pointed look and a little nod down the hill to where Mike and Stan were sitting curled together under a tree next to the car. Stan was gripping Mike’s hand, and he looked close to tears again as he said something they couldn’t hear. 

“They would be together if I saved him,” Eddie whispered. 

“Eddie…” Richie cupped his face so Eddie was looking at him, “Baby come on. Don’t blame yourself for that. There was nothing you could have done.” 

“You don’t know that Richie. There’s blood on my hands. My best friend’s blood. My brother’s blood,” he shook his head “I could have done more. I could have found a way…” 

“Eddie, you said it yourself, you’re not a fucking surgeon,” Richie pulled him closer, “And just because you were going to be premed next year doesn’t make you qualified, physically or mentally, to start ripping through someone’s body because you had a  _ hunch _ you could save him if you did something differently. His lungs were ruptured Eds. There’s nothing any of us could have done.” 

Eddie nodded solemnly, “I guess so…” 

“You did everything you could. No one blames you Eds…” 

Eddie nodded, pushing off Richie’s lap, “I need to talk to him. To Stan.” he whispered. 

Richie nodded, “And Eds?” he grabbed his hand. 

“Yeah?” 

“No more breakup talk ok? You’re kinda all I’ve got going for me right now,” he had the familiar teasing tone in his voice, but Eddie could see the fear in his eyes. 

Eddie smiled and leaned over to peck his lips softly, “No more break up talk. Promise.” 

 

Eddie settled on the ground next to Stan and squeezed his arm gently, “Hey…” 

Stan didn’t look up at him, “Hey.” 

“Stan...Stan I’m so sorry,” Eddie whispered, “I wish I could have saved him. You know I did everything I could. You know that right?” 

Stan looked up at him, “I know. I know you did,” he took Eddie’s hand gently, “I know you did everything you could.”

“Are you mad?” Eddie whispered. 

“No. I’m sad. Heartbroken. But I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself for not staying and helping. Had I been there...I could have done something if I wasn’t such a goddamn coward,” he whispered. 

“Hey no,” Eddie grabbed his hand, “You were scared. It’s natural to be scared…” he hugged him tightly, “It’s not your fault,” he promised, pulling Stan closer, “It’s no one’s fault.”  

Stan buried his face in Eddie’s neck, “It’s no one’s fault.” he repeated, curling in closer. 

Eddie nodded, “You gonna be ok?” he rubbed Stan’s back gently, smiling a little when he felt him nod, “Good.” 

Mike sat down from where he had been leaning against a tree on Stan’s other side and put an arm around him, “Eddie...I wanna say thank you.”

Eddie blinked in surprise, “Thank me? For what?” 

Mike squeezed his hand, “When he was...When Bill was dying,” he whispered, taking a shaky breath, “You were the one who jumped into action to try to save him. You were the one who wanted to bury him. You were the one brave enough to do what had to be done in that moment,” he cupped Eddie’s cheek gently, “No one blames you, you got that? No one blames you for what happened to Bill. Least of all Stan and me.”

And finally, Eddie let himself do what he had been too afraid to do for past week. 

He started to cry. Body shaking, heaving sobs. For his mother, for Bill, for the countless other innocent people who were dead and dying all around them. For Richie, who’s never ending optimism and energy was getting weaker and weaker by the day. For Bev and Ben who were holding it together so well for the rest of them even though they both were grieving immensely themselves. 

And selfishly, he cried for himself and for the life he was never going to get to live. 

 

_ Hands covering her mouth. Hands pulling at her clothes and knocking her to the ground. Cold fingers closing around her throat with nails that dug into her skin _ . 

Bev gasped, sitting up from where she had fallen asleep next to the van. She let her head fall back against the cool metal as she attempted to catch her breath. She shivered slightly, pulling one of Ben’s sweatshirts from her bag and pulling it on. She stood slowly, still desperately trying to push the memories of where she had been before Mike, Bill, and Ben had found her. She sat down next to Richie where he was building a campfire. 

“Hey Ditchie,” she smiled a little, bumping her shoulder with his. As much as she tried to sound casual, her voice came out tight and strained, like those cold hands were still clamped down around her throat. 

Richie looked up, “Hey Levie,” he rocked back off his feet, landing on his butt next to her, “You look like hell on roller skates.” 

“Not like you look any better,” she shot back easily, taking his hand in hers, “You got a smoke?” 

“Like you need to ask,” he reached into his jacket pocket, “Stole basically the whole display stand from Keene’s before we booked it,” he passed her one and his zippo, “Not like he’s gonna miss ‘em.” 

“Wow theft and murder,” she grinned, “Workin’ your way down the list?” 

Richie snorted, “Something like that. Kinda pissed Eds beat me to the punch with arson.”

“Nah you’ll still get your chance at arson for sure. What about grand theft auto? We’ll probably need a car eventually,” She was barely holding back her giggles. She looked up locking eyes with Richie and suddenly they were both doubled up with laughter, laying side by side in the dirt. Richie rolled onto his side and squeezed her hand. 

“Hey, Bevs.” 

“Hi, Richie.” 

He smiled, “Thanks.” 

She shrugged, “In the normal world I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Shit, you’re the one who got upset when Bill killed that spider.” 

“It wasn’t bothering anyone! He was just being a chicken,” 

“The point is,” she cuddled closer to him, “I know that in the real world, in our real lives that we were supposed to get, you would never have done those things. You did it to save someone you love.” 

Richie nodded, letting the sounds of the woods settle around them. 

“Do you miss him?” 

“Of course I miss him,” Bev’s voice was small, “He saved my life you know. When the outbreak started.” 

Richie shook his head “I had no idea…”

She nodded, “Pulled two of them off me after he and Ben came looking for me,” she whispered, “I loved him. I loved him so much Rich,” she murmured, “He was one of my best friends. Anything I needed he was there for me. He was always so...when we were kids before I met the rest of you, he was the only guy who treated me like I was just a girl. Not something to fuck.” 

Richie nodded, “I miss him too. When Stan and I weren’t in the same class in first grade, he was the one who came to talk to me. He’s the reason I know Eddie,” Richie smiled, “I loved him too. Probably too much when I was a kid.” 

They lay there quietly watching the flames from the campfire lick upwards towards the darkened sky, wrapped, momentarily, in the warmth of comfortable silence 

 

The six of them sat curled around the campfire, eating partially warmed canned spaghetti, and they all collectively seemed to be breathing a little easier, although it was impossible not to notice the presence that was missing from their group.

“I have an idea,” Richie suddenly stood and sprinted towards the car. 

“That’s dangerous,” Stan mumbled, picking at his food.

“Have faith in me, Stan!” Richie called over his shoulder as he rummaged through the trunk. With a small cheer, he pulled back, holding a glass bottle filled with a dark amber liquid. He plopped down between Bev and Eddie, uncapping it and taking a hearty sip. 

“Richie...it isn’t safe,” Stan cautioned, “We have to be ready to move at a moments notice and I don’t think we should be-”

“Stan,” Richie cut in, “One sip is not going to kill you. It’s been a long fucking week. We’re safe here. Deserve it.” 

Stan looked like he wanted to argue back but then softened, “Give it here then,” he mumbled, “Where did you even get it?” 

“All part of my master criminal image Stan the Man.” 

“Richie you’re about as edgy as a butter knife,” Eddie teased, smiling as Richie pulled him into his arms and passed him the bottle. 

Once the bottle had made its way around the circle, Richie picked it up and poured as shot out into the fire, making them all jump as the flames leaped upwards, “For Bill,” he whispered somberly. 

A chorus of “For Bill echoed around the fire, and as they silence fell, they all could have sworn they heard a familiar voice whisper back to them through the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow chapter I know, but it's gonna pick up again in hot sec. 
> 
> Super important side note: I'M NOT STEALING LEIGH'S CONTENT. NO ONE IS STEALING CONTENT. SHE LITERALLY PROOFREADS THIS FIC.
> 
> If you think I'm doing something wrong please let me know but don't go trying to start drama where there isn't any.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make my day! 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr: @studpuffin


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